


Where You're Supposed to Be

by Isis_McGee



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 69 (Sex Position), Aftercare, BDSM, Bottom Sam, Cock Warming, Dirty Talk, Dom Sam, Dom/sub, Face Slapping, Face-Fucking, Human Furniture, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Bottom Sam, Sub Dean, Tears, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-21
Updated: 2015-06-21
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:41:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,388
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166265
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isis_McGee/pseuds/Isis_McGee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean loves when his brother puts him in his place.</p>
<p>Unrepentant power bottom!Sam, sub top!Dean Wincest smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Where You're Supposed to Be

Sweat slides off the tip of Dean’s nose and his hands ache from being splayed out into the ground to keep himself steady. He’s been stock still for at least twenty minutes-- long enough to go numb to the coldness of the glass settled on his lower back and the ache of where Sam’s heels dig into him higher up. He’s painfully hard, from the anticipation of knowing what’s coming when Sam gets like this, demands him to be this way, and from the sounds of the porn Sam’s got playing on the TV that he can’t see. Only out of the corner of his eye can he see what’s happening: a busty brunette’s getting fucked by two men at once, one huge cock being shoved in and out of her throat and the other pumping in and out of her ass hole. Dean doesn’t even have to check the other way to be able to feel that Sam’s lazily stroking his dick to the scene in between sips of his whiskey.

If Dean’s honest with himself, he knows that part of the reason he’s dying to be touched, for Sam to push him onto his back and slide onto his cock, isn’t because of the obscene sounds; it’s not even from Sam jerking it so close to him. It’s about the fact that Sam hasn’t even looked at Dean since this started, not outright at least. It’s about the fact that Sam is using his big brother as a footstool and a table and within the hour as almost nothing more than a sex toy. Dean is here strictly for Sam’s pleasure and he loves it more than he’d care to think about.

Sam groans and Dean has to keep himself from twitching because he knows the punishment for spilling the drink positioned on his tailbone. He almost apologizes but bites his tongue.

And then Sam moves his feet and the drink is gone, the  _clink_  Dean hears telling him Sam’s put it on the end table. 

“Sit up on your knees, Dean. And come here between my legs. Chin on the cushion.”

Dean’s mouth starts to water as soon as he hears Sam say ‘knees’ and he maneuvers himself into position, opening his mouth and letting his tongue stick out past his lips, drool dripping from the sides of his open mouth just a little. He raises his eyes and sees Sam smirking.

“As pretty as you look like that, that’s not what I want right now. I know how much of a cockslut you are for me to fuck that whore mouth of yours, but you’re going to have to wait your turn to feel good, Dean. Good sluts wait for permission.”

Dean feels himself nodding as Sam reaches over and cards a hand through his hair. He pushes his thumb against Dean’s tongue enough to tease and then reaches to the side to grab the bottle of lube they keep in the end table drawer. Sam snaps open the lid and pours it on his fingers. He plants his feet firmly on the ground and lifts himself up to reach behind his balls and tease at his perineum and his hole. His balls are so close to Dean’s tongue that Dean thinks about stretching it and licking, but he knows that he won’t like the punishment that comes for such an act. Instead, he whines as he watches Sam play with himself, slicking the pucker of his ass and the cleft of his cheeks, and he groans loudly when Sam slides one finger inside himself. The breathy moan Sam gives as he fucks himself onto one finger is enough of a tease that Dean can feel his cock start to leak. More precome spurts out when Sam adds a second finger and groans at the added stretch. Sam whines as he scissors his fingers out to open himself even farther.

“I’ve really gotta open myself up to take you, Dean. It’s been a while since we’ve done this. Since I’ve taken that pretty dick.”

Something boils in Dean at the word “pretty” and he’s panting and trying to keep from surging forward to suck Sam’s cock or balls into his mouth. He has to dig his nails into his thighs to stay still with such temptation in front of him. He moans loudly in relief when Sam puts his free hand on his shoulder and pushes him back until he’s lying on the floor. his hands go above his head and cross at the wrist automatically. Dean’s hips buck up hard at Sam’s whispered “good boy.”

Sam’s thighs squeeze tight around Dean’s hips and Dean almost wants to cry when Sam’s smiling down at him as he rocks, teasing. When Sam grasps Dean’s cock and lines it up, Dean does cry out. It’s even louder when Sam sinks down, taking all of Dean into him with one movement.

Sam is hot and tight and had lubed himself up so much that Dean can barely stand it. He bucks up and Sam wraps his hands around his wrists and slams them down onto the floor so hard that Dean has to cut off a shout. 

“You don’t move,” Sam orders. He rocks down hard and he doesn’t stop. Dean wants to fuck up into Sam so much that it makes him crazy, but Sam knows exactly how to ride him, knows exactly when to speed up, exactly when to take Dean deeper inside him, exactly when to tease. It’s the best sort of torture that Dean could ever imagine. By the time Sam’s barely moving, just grinding down hard and shallow and fisting his own cock, Dean thinks he’s going to burst, no matter what the rules are. 

Then Sam slaps him across the face before grabbing his jaw and forcing his mouth open and Dean can’t stay still- he’s writhing underneath Sam as Sam’s breath catches and he comes in stripes up Dean’s chest, shooting all the way up to just make a few drops into his mouth. Dean feel tears leak from the corner of his eyes and Sam’s thumb of his free hand wipes them away while the other’s milking the last of his orgasm out.  All of Dean’s willpower goes to not coming in Sam’s ass when he clenches around his cock, throbs in his climax.  He holds off, whining and with more tears leaking, and Sam collapses on top of him, trapping him with the heat and weight of his body. 

“If you come now, you won’t again for the rest of the week,” he whispers, breath hot in Dean’s ear. “But if you wait until I come again, I’ll swallow. I know how much you like it when I deepthroat you.”

Dean can’t help the sound that comes out of his mouth and he feels Sam laugh against him for a moment.

“Impala?” Sam asks, his voice changing. Dean shakes his head.

“I’m good, Sammy.”

Sam sits up, still sheathing Dean’s cock and grins down at him. “Good.” He’s grinning and it twists Dean’s stomach in a way of absolute pleasure. “Then you can get up and warm my cock until I’m ready to go.”

In one fluid motion. Sam’s up and on the couch and he pulls Dean with him. It takes no coaxing for Dean to slide back onto his knees, hands behind his back, and suck as much of Sam’s cock into his mouth as he can. He can feel it twitch just slightly in interest and he can feel Sam’s one hand come to rest on the back of his head before sliding off to rest on his own knee. The other takes a sip of his now watered down whiskey. Then Dean hears the porn turn back on; he hadn’t even noticed Sam had turned it off, but hearing it now makes his cock jump against the scratchy material of the couch and makes him moan.

“Are you a good slut, Dean?” Sam asks. Dean nods, never taking his mouth off of Sam’s soft cock. When Sam raises an eyebrow expectantly, he moans an affirmative noise. “I thought so. Because good sluts know their place and you’re right where you ought to be.”

Dean whimpers at the words and tries to swallow so he doesn’t drool, but Sam taps his cheek with a finger to stop him. After that, Dean waits patiently, his tongue jolting on its own occasionally. Sam’s eyes are glued to the TV, where a third man has joined the threesome from before by the sounds of it, while Dean’s eyes are glued to Sam. Sam’s cock is starting to thicken in the wet heat of Dean’s mouth, but he makes no move to quicken the pace of things. Cramps start in Dean’s legs, and he’s still hard, knowing Sam’s ignoring him but is going to need him again soon.

Sam drops both of his hands onto the back of Dean’s head and finally looks down to meet his eyes. He’s almost fully hard and Dean wants more than anything to get him there so that his brother can fuck his mouth.

“Suck.”

And Dean does, hollowing his cheeks and never taking his eyes off Sam, trying to read whether or not he has permission to bob his head and take more. Nothing says he can, so he continues to suck and tongues around the head as much as he can and tongues at the slit.

“Good. Now open. Tongue out.” Dean complies and Sam smiles at him before shoving his hips up just as he pushes Dean’s head down. Dean gags and works around it quickly, recovering just in time for Sam to do it again, and again, giving Dean time to get used to it before he fucks his mouth in earnest. Precome is dripping from Dean’s dick when Sam shoves his head down to make him take as much as he can and his throat tries to close around the head. He can feel that there’s precome leaking from Sam too. Dean can hardly breathe and he’s choking but it feels so good that he moans deep in his chest. He thinks he’s about to white out, whether from lack of air or sheer pleasure of being used for Sam’s happiness, when Sam lets him up to take big gasping breaths of air.

He’s still petting Dean’s hair when he tells him “You’re so good, Dean, You did so well. And you look so pretty with your dick all wet and your chest all red.” Sam pauses in his petting to reach down and tweak Dean’s pebbled nipples. Dean hisses. “Now, I know you want to come. But I know you want me to come even more. And I know how much you like tasting me, but it seems like it’d be a shame to waste such good preparation since you’re all wet and I’m still open from that big cock.”

Dean doesn’t think he can take having Sam ride him again without blowing his load, but he knows that if that’s what Sam wants, that’s what will happen. He has to squeeze his eyes shut and not look at Sam when he pushes him back and slides on top of him, sinking onto his dick in nearly one motion. He can’t stop the cry of “oh fuck” that escapes his mouth.

After nothing but the rough couch material teasing at his dick for half an hour, Sam feels like heaven. He normally does, but the anticipation has ramped it up into something so fierce that tears spring to Dean’s eyes immediately. Sam bounces on Dean’s cock, sliding himself almost off before rocking back down and the pace is brutal and perfect and Dean doesn’t even realize that he’s stuttering  out “Sammy, Sammy, Sammy-“ with every movement. He thinks he might die with the effort it’s taking for him not to come and then suddenly, Sam’s gone, rising off Dean so quickly that it hurts.

But he swings his legs around faster than Dean can even whine, straddling his brother’s face and sucking his reddened cock into his mouth. Dean would scream if he weren’t so busy positioning himself to take Sam’s cock into his mouth. He’s determined to be a good sub and swallow Sam’s come down without spilling a drop before his orgasm starts.  

Dean brings out every trick he knows and he shoves two fingers into Sam’s hole, permission be damned, as he bobs his head and flutters his tongue and sucks and then Sam’s hips are stilling and his cock pulses and the first taste of Sam’s come hits Dean’s tongue. That’s all it takes to make Dean’s orgasm rip through him and make him scream, mouth opening and letting Sam’s still spasming dick escape his mouth to come on his chin and his chest. It feels so good, with Sam sucking him still, that he doesn’t even realize that he’s got tears on his face again.

When Sam pulls off, he crawls onto the couch and has to drag Dean with him. He doesn’t pull him into his arms right away, just looks at him, examining his face and wiping away the tear tracks with gentle fingertips. 

“I’m okay, Sam. It was just intense.”

Sam kisses Dean’s temple and pulls the throw blanket off the back of the couch to wrap around Dean. 

“Please keep it on while I get you some water and a wet rag?” he asks, knowing Dean’s liable to yank the blanket off as soon as Sam’s out of sight.

But he doesn’t. He waits until Sam’s sat back down and handed him the glass of water to get rid of the blanket, piling it on his feet. He drinks the water down in three gulps before Sam can tell him to slow down. Sam wipes his face and chest with the rag and then smiles at him softly.  

“Do you want to lay down or sit?” They both know that no matter how Dean answers, they’re going to wind up sprawled together on the couch, Sam half wrapped around Dean, so Dean skips the pretend.

Once they’re settled, Sam presses another kiss to Dean’s head. 

“I love you.”

And that is exactly where Dean is supposed to be. 


End file.
